


Punch Lines

by Amata42



Series: Past Tense [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Marauders' Era, Pre-Slash, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amata42/pseuds/Amata42
Summary: The future looks bright now that Malfoy has left, and the Marauders are free to rule Hogwarts - or is it? School bullies, drug usage, and UST everywhere...Year 4 at Hogwarts. MWPP- era preslash.





	1. King of Hogwarts

He couldn't put a finger on it, but something bothered him about the slimy git. Maybe the way he had always been two silent steps behind Malfoy… except at the Willow, he hadn't been near the Willow Challenge… but he _was_ slimy. Greasy was actually a better word for it. Greasy, with a big nose that was always too close to their business.

There was little that Sirius Black enjoyed doing in History of Magic more than dissecting Snivellus. He even liked the phrase: dissecting Snivellus - as if he could really dismember the prat just by thinking about it. Sirius had been to busy avoiding Slytherins during his first year to notice much, or care about, Snivellus. But second year, when Sirius started fighting back, then he had memorized every last one of them. Jamie called it the "know thy enemy" tactic.

Sirius practiced it diligently in History of Magic. Anytime he wasn't distracted by Remus, that is.

Remus, _Moony_ , as Sirius had started calling him, was bent over his desk, quill moving rapidly. The midafternoon light filled the room with a warm, sleepy feeling that Sirius associated directly with the light-brown, golden, amber swirl of colors that he used to paint his picture of Moony. In his mind, dissecting Snivellus took second stage only to summoning mental images of his fellow Gryffindor.

They had something between them now, something unspoken that even Jamie wasn't part of. Ever since that evening in the library, followed by a summer full of owls just between the two of them. Sirius had spent a week with James, and had carefully planned it before the full moon so that Moony could be there too. And there had been a look, a gaze that had passed between them when Moony had first arrived… Sirius would spend his time in History carefully reconstructing that gaze. Every tiny detail: the thankful eyes, the slightly worried and knowing expression colored by a flush of relief. Something else, too, a hint of pink along his cheekbones. The way his skin was so clean and alive looking, instead of ghastly pale and taunt, like after a full moon.

Moments like that, shared with Moony, had made it easier to go back to his parent's house. And the Willow Challenge hadn't hurt either. Andromeda had let it slip to her parents, maybe even when his own parents were around. She had probably said something tactful, carefully extricating Malfoy, Narcissa, and Regulus from the situation. But whatever she said, Sirius was certain that she had made his… conquest… of the Willow, for a second time, seem like an appropriately Slytherin thing to do.

Sirius scowled at the thought. Stupid, slimy Slytherins. Stupid, slimy Malfoy. Dratted Narcissa… And he didn't even want to think about Regulus. Secretly, a piece of Sirius was very relieved that Regulus was exactly what his parents wanted; it kept them from thinking about Sirius' own failures any more than necessary. But it was too painful, too alienating, to openly accept. Sirius bitterly returned his contemplation to Snivellus. A much easier person to despise; an easier target too, less complex, less painful. Easy to hex.

Now that Malfoy (the slimy git) had graduated, and Narcissa (dratted witch) was too "feminine" to carry on without Malfoy to fight for her, Sirius Black was unchallenged at Hogwarts. The feeling was novel. Like eating ice cream on a sunny summer day. At first Sirius had been shocked when he had walked - unhexed, unjostled, and unhassled - through all of his first day's classes. Like the first bite of frozen sugar: it melts your mouth beyond the ability to taste, goes straight to you head.

The second taste he relished.

By the third bite, he was ready to have some fun with his new found flavor.

They were 4th years now. All the Slytherins older than them were little more than dull thugs who had spent most of their time at Hogwarts following in the exacting shadow of Lucius Malfoy. Apparently few of them really cared to jostle for the now-vacant position as king of the school. So Sirius had decided that it was a position that was rightfully his (to share, of course, with Jamie and Moony, and Peter too, of course).

Sirius Black was, after all, a pure blooded wizard with decent enough talent for it, rugged good looks, plenty of money, and he _had_ beaten the Whomping Willow _twice_ … a feat that no one else had yet managed to repeat (Davey Gudgeon, the Hufflepuff seeker, would in fact nearly lose an eye later that very year trying to touch the Willow; the Willow's vicious nature seemed incensed against any further trespass and would now redouble its efforts at even the slightest hint of approach).  
  
Sirius Black, king of Hogwarts. He liked the position. And he liked the perks.

Sirius shot a thoughtful glance at Moony again, still busy with notes. As unspoken liege lord, Sirius would always be able to protect Moony, no matter what. He'd be able to make sure nobody bothered Moony, and that nobody found out about Moony. He'd be able to pay back some of the debt that he owed to Moony for being there for him. And for saving his life - over and over again. That's how it seemed, at least; even though Malfoy had moved on, even though things were looking up; even though life was mostly like ice cream… every now and then it wasn't so great again. There were always reminders, subtle hints, and pointed jabs ( _not going to think about Regulus_ ). But Moony was there now, always there. To be with Sirius when he needed it, to hold him at night and not mention it in the morning when other blokes would hear and think less of Sirius, who sometimes had nightmares that kept him awake.

So Sirius took over the place Malfoy had left behind to try and show Moony how much it meant to him. To prove that he would do anything, hex anyone, to repay his friendship. He would protect their freedom, he would always - _always_ \- protect the ones he loved.

Sirius' smile twisted into a scowl again. Perhaps that's why he hated Snivellus so much: he was _common_ and he was _competition_. The greasy snit was the only thing that Slytherin had now that could ever threaten him, or Moony.

He was just as smart as Moony - he had to be, with his big, ugly nose always pressed into all those books. And he wasn't worthy of Moony at all; not nearly as good looking as Sirius, or James, or even Peter (if he'd just lose a few around the middle…). And he had to be up to his eyeballs in Dark Arts - he was Slytherin after all. And… he was just an insufferable git.

He was so transparent it was embarrassing. Sirius came from an old, dark wizarding family too, but that was no reason to practically advertise his homelife in every word and gesture. His robes were a mess, his hair was greasy, his manner so closed and developmentally challenged he practically had a giant sign in magical letters above his head that proclaimed: "My parents are in the thrall of the Dark Arts, and they beat the shite out of me every chance they get." The pathetic weakling.

Snivellus was poor, his family broken; he had nothing in common with Sirius Black. He had no right to want to share friends, especially one so special as Moony. He had no place presenting a challenge to Sirius' new rule of the hallways. And that was what Sirius had to remind him every chance he got.

Because Snivellus had _nothing_ in common with Sirius.


	2. Snape's Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is torn between two friends...

Remus Lupin snuck a glance sideways at Sirius, amused to see that Sirius wasn't taking notes, again. Hoping that at least James was, Remus went back to writing furiously. It probably looked like he was taking his usual meticulous notes, but Sirius would be quite surprised if he tried to copy them tonight. Remus was actually trying to finish his letter to Severus.

Ever since the year began, and Sirius had started acting so… sure of himself… Remus had tried to see less and less of his Slytherin friend. He couldn't help it - he didn't want to lose his Gryffindor friends, or to remind Sirius of his family problems - so he and Severus had taken to sending each other owls. Remus always claimed they were from his Mum. He had no idea what, if anything, Severus told the other Slytherins.

Sneaking another glance back at Sirius, Remus was surprised to see the severe look on Sirius' face, It rather reminded him of the serious look on Severus' face when, if ever, their secret library conversations wandered over the topic of Sirius Black.

After a moment's thoughtful pause, Remus returned to his letter writing. He hoped the two boys could manage not to hex each other too badly; he was becoming increasingly worried about the changes he was seeing in the others around him. Not to mention slightly trapped in an awkward position with two people he'd rather not have to choose between.

It was as if, being the wolf already, there wasn't much left inside Remus to change as he aged. He grew older, died, and was reborn with the moon every month - that was enough change for him, thank you very much. But Sirius… he was wild now, flexing his muscles like he was only realizing he had them. And sometimes he "flexed" in a way Remus wished he wouldn't. Not that there was anything he would do, however. Remus secretly thought that maybe Sirius was just over-compensating. Once he had faced it that night in the library, Sirius would have begun to see just how little life he had- he would naturally want to start living a little, on his own, out from underneath the shadow… Remus felt like that after every full moon, but was usually too torn up and sick to do anything but stare at the sky and feel wretchedly restless.

A small part of himself was thrilled by Sirius' new antics, was reveling vicariously in the pranking and the rough-housing that Remus had always had to hold back.

And Severus… well… Remus paused momentarily, biting his lip, quill poised above the letter. He was distracted mid-sentence. Severus was a lot colder lately. He hadn't been reading anything they could share or discuss in their letters. He'd been reading books borrowed from other Slytherins, books Remus couldn't get his own copies of -even if he had wanted to. It was as if their friendship had plateaued, if that was possible. And yet they both returned to each other, over and over. Arranging study times that "coincidentally" coincided, sending owls, and contriving ways to be partnered for class assignments.

But that was it. Or, even, that made it seem like a lot more than it was, if such a thing were possible. It was all getting so… _cold_ … Remus repeated, _cold and calculated. Like he's uncertain._

Remus had seen Severus tackle school problems enough times to guess his response to similar situations. The greater the challenge, the more complex and daunting, the less warmth Severus bestowed upon it. Hard work was met with equally calculated focus, intense and measured carefully, controlled just as the vulnerable worried parts of Severus were controlled. The greater the problem the more Severus would push his fear- along with all the rest of his emotions- deeper and deeper inside.

It worried Remus. He knew what it was like to be bottled up inside, to have to hold back and repress. To have to keep a huge part of yourself carefully caged away from everyone else… Whatever it was that Severus was now repressing… It didn't help when that part was obviously so emotional, so intrinsic as fear, rage, pain, passion - things that Remus had always thought of as "primal wolf-stuff." Forces as mysterious, inexplicable, and uncontrollable as the moon. At least Remus had to let it out once a month; he didn't care to contemplate what it must feel like to be Severus- pushing it all deeper and deeper into some inner closet. That place was probably crammed full of skeletons by now: dead dreams, dead feelings, dead hopes, dead childhood…

Remus shivered, if Severus didn't do something about all that death, it could one day eat him alive.

If Sirius didn't hex him into the breaking point first, that is.

Halloween was around the corner, maybe they'd make it to Yule without any serious- or Sirius - incidents…


	3. Relaxed and Groovy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An extra credit potions project - and Remus sees a new side of Severus Snape

_Oh this is just…rich._ Severus thought, as the wobbly ball of robes-and-teenage-boy dumped itself in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. _Now what?_  
And much to his fascination a sound remarkably like a giggle escaped his lips.

"'llo!" his voice said to the portrait who was looking at him steadily. Her eyebrow raised as her eyes darted from his blood-shot eyes to his Slytherin robes.

"This isn't _your_ Common Room, you know." She said flatly. Nor was this the first time she'd seen antics like this - but she couldn't just giggle along with the boy and give him whatever he wanted, now could she?

"Course not!" The lump decided that standing up was taking too much concentration, and sank to the floor in a relaxed heap. "Course not." He repeated, "I want to see Remus Lupin. I had this utterly _brilliant_ idea that he just has to hear - I'm sure he'd understand. And I also wanted to ask him if he also saw those…those…" And the boy's face twisted in deep concentration as he tried to track down the precise word to describe whatever "those" were. He waved his hand emphatically at the portrait, his eyes gesturing toward the movement, "You know," he said with an air of camaraderie, " _those_ -right there."  
And he waved his hand again.

The Fat Lady raised an eyebrow and looked supremely unimpressed.

"Please." The boy continued, "please, can I see Remus?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut short by the timely arrival of the Gryffindor in question.  
"Severus!" The voice said warmly, as Remus Lupin appeared walking up the stairs, "I thought you were working on an extra project for Potions tonight!"

The dark-clad Slytherin leaned against the nearest object- a suit of armor- and intensely studied the approaching boy. "I _was_." He replied languidly. "Where were you?"

Remus blinked. Severus' demeanor was… relaxed. "I was in the library studying, like I said after Care for Magical Creatures this morning." He replied in a measured voice, "Severus, what's…"

"That's the problem with you, I think." Severus cut him off, "Why we aren't _us_ yet. We spend too much time studying together, and not enough time…" he waved his hands emphatically again, gesturing to himself, to the hall, to the whole universe. Remus' eyes widened. So did Severus' - but that was because he was staring with a euphoric mystified expression at the movement of his hands again. Remus coughed slightly. Severus' eyes blinked slowly, as if thrilled at the physical experience of blinking, and refocused on a spot slightly behind Remus.

"…not enough time together like this - all… relaxed and groovy." Severus ended his sentence as if there had not been a couple minute's pause in the middle.

"Relaxed _and groovy_?" Remus repeated incredulously. "Severus, I do believe you're _stoned_!"

Severus was silent for a moment longer, positively transfixed by the muscles of Remus' jaw as his lips -positively entrancing lips- moved around his words - positively hypnotic words.

"… I think I had something to tell you…" he said slowly. "You understand."

"What do I understand, Severus?" Remus tried not to be impatient; he was rather used to the more meticulous pace that Severus usually took anyway.

"What I was going to tell you."

"But you haven't told me yet."

More pause. Remus shifted uncomfortably under Severus' languid gaze; it felt as if Severus was seeing him for the first time, and was devouring the sight with particular relish. Remus didn't know what to do with himself: laugh or become aroused. _Merlin, get a grip_! Remus scolded himself. _This is Severus, for pity's sake; and besides, he's high on…something from potions._ Remus was almost certain that the wizarding world knew very little about Muggle recreational chemicals. Having lived most of his life among Muggles, Remus had a good idea of a thing or two; perhaps wizards had some sort of equivalent to those kinds of things.

"Severus?" Remus began again, prompting gently. "You haven't told me yet."

"Yes." Severus finally said, leaning back his head and shutting his eyes, allowing sound to wash over him now, "Yes, but you _understand_."

They might have stood there looking at each other, speaking cryptically in circles, awash in the ebb and flow of their voices - except that Remus heard the tell-tale sounds of a group of Gryffindors at the base of the stairs behind him. Probably harmless late-night studyers, just now returning to the Dorms. But Remus was gripped with the sudden panic: _what if it is James, and Peter, and Sirius?_

"Severus, we need to get out of here. If the others find you… if other Gryffindors see you like this..." Remus was immediately moving towards Severus, reaching down and pulling gently on his arm. Severus practically shivered at the touch of his hand, but _thankfully_ was compliant enough to follow Remus' guidance. He stood up, nearly knocking over the suit of armor, and meekly leaned into Remus' touch.

"Come on." Remus said, pulling, and led the other boy quickly down the opposite hall. Remus had no idea where he would take Severus. Perhaps he could go dump him unceremoniously in front of the "secret" entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Or maybe take him down to the Potions classroom, and just lock him up there - he'd be found in the morning and maybe they'd think it was some weird potions accident… or…

"Remus."

 _Damn, his voice is like velvet_! Remus shocked himself; this night was just full of surprises.

"Remus… I want…" Severus was tasting the words as they fell from his mouth. Remus' hand clutched compulsively tighter. His pace sped up, and he was hardly watching where they were - already past the Great Hall.

"Severus?" Remus almost didn't breath. "What?"

"I _really_ want… to…"

Remus swallowed nervously. Then, suddenly, Severus' head turned over his shoulder.

"There! Wait, Remy - that's where the potion was. I need to…" And Severus pulled away, deliberately moving towards one of the spare classrooms that Remus often used between classes on longer breaks for study hall. _Did Severus just call me "Remy"?_ Remus thought _, feeling his cheeks tingle pink._

"Oh. wow." Remus blinked as he walked through the doorway. The classroom tables were all pushed aside, and a few of the chairs had been pulled into a hazy-sort-of circle. Mostly, they were unoccupied, though, because the six or seven fifth-years were draped across the floor, across the tables, and across each other. The only table that was still in its original position had a slowly bubbling cauldron on it. There was a soothing sort of bubbly noise. Like someone was blowing bubbles through a straw. Wet, and heavy, and sort of thick sounding. Like the bubbles never really popped. They just kept blowing and bubbling.

The cauldron was emitting a soothing silver-purple haze. It reminded Remus of once, in the Muggle village, when they had celebrated Halloween by putting a block of dry ice in water. Vapors rising lazily, drifting over the table, rolling to the floor. A scent lingering in the air, like a heady forest - not quite floral, not quite pine cones.

 _In fact,_ Remus thought to himself, fascinated, _I could spend the next week not moving from this spot until I correctly identified how to describe this… this… ineffable…_

One of the fifth years looked up, a Slytherin, and rolled his head slightly to the side. "Hey, guys… look." He nudged the fifth year closest to him without a response, but continued speaking anyway, "Look… a Gryffindor."

Remus briefly wondered if he should worry. But promptly gave up with that idea. He felt much too… relaxed and groovy… to care if the Slytherins hated him. _In fact,_ Remus thought vaguely amused, _I don't really care if the Slytherins hate anyone at all. Slytherins are definitely_ not _relaxed and groovy. That's a great way to describe things. Like Dumbledore. He definitely_ is _relaxed and groovy. And so is that Slytherin boy over there, with the incredible hair. What color is that - auburn? Choke-cherry? No, no, it's more like black that someone tinted with blood…_

Apparently every Slytherin in the room echoed Remus' new-found sentiments on being 'relaxed and groovy' because hardly anybody moved, let alone tried to stop him. A thought occurred to Remus. He turned his eyes away from the fascinating hair - _chestnut maybe_ \- and searched for Severus. The other boy was hovering over the cauldron, staring intently down at the potions ingredients and a scrap of paper.

"Hey." Remus called softly, suddenly realizing that Severus' hair wasn't actually limp or stringy. It was _flaxen_ , really; and if it was greasy, that was like linseed oil. Artists use that to create the most beautiful paintings in the world. And it was all just sitting on top of Sev's head, falling into his face like an oil painting. Remus, having successfully navigated to the table, reached up transfixed by the black hair. His fingers ran through the strand that had escaped from where Sev had pushed it behind his ear. _I'm running my fingers though the Mona Lisa!_ Remus thought. His eyes half-closed as he focused all his attention to the places on his electrified skin where his fingers were twisting through the ebony tress.

Then the original thought returned. "Oh yeah." Remus breathed, noticing that Severus had stopped whatever it was he had been doing, and was frozen under the spell of Remus' twining fingers. The look that Sev had fixed on Remus sent shivers up his spine; _why have I never noticed how beautifully intense his eyes are?_

Then the original thought returned, again. "Oh, yeah." Remus said more firmly this time. "Sev, what were you doing for Potions with all these fifth years?"

It seemed to take an hour to ask the whole question.

Severus took another hour to answer.

"Well, umm, actually. It was an extra-credit assignment." He began, with that same look on his face that told Remus he was savoring the flavor of the words as much as he was savoring the continued contact from Remus' hand, which had moved from his hair to his ear, and was now making it's way down the edge of his neck. Something flickered in Severus' eyes - a bit of pride? - as he continued explaining.

"It's an assignment for the fifth years. A little extra help for grades, for, you know, OWLs." He paused to roll the word around his mouth and tongue again, like a lollipop. "ooowwww…wwwwwwweeeelllllllssssszzzzz."

"They came to me-" now Remus was sure he recognized the carefully controlled flash of ego, "- because they knew I could brew it better. And they really, really wanted to scrape some extra points."

Remus, despite his new "relaxed and groovy" attitude, couldn't help but scan the room again; he didn't try to muffle his laughter. "Yes. I can see now. They seem like the sort that would need…"

"A lot more help?" Severus confirmed, his eyes now dancing when they locked with Remus' eyes.

"What are you doing now?" Remus asked, utterly captivated by the intricate details of the potion brewing spread on the table before him. There were tiny little slivers of some silvery mushrooms. There were unidentifiable plant-root-thingies, with deeply intricate grooves and wrinkles. There was something green, a vine with an exotic-deep-jungle depth to its color. The sort of color that was rich and full and…

Severus was running his fingertips along the ingredients, his touch feather-light. Like a lover memorizing the contours of his beloved's body. Remus bit his lip, savoring even the sharp sting of pain, as he watched.

"I was… trying to remember. I was standing here. Brewing. Potion. And then, I had a marvelous thought." Sev's voice was low, penetrating… thoughtful. "I wanted to tell you.. tell you that…"

Remus' fingers were resting against the delicious place where Severus' neck met his shoulder. There was a perfect little hollow where the bone curved in and the muscles twined upward… "Tell me?"

"I really want something." Severus said, pausing again in concentration.

"I really want to eat something."

Remus thought that this was the best idea he'd ever heard in his entire life. Chewing food. _Tasting_ food. _Tasting chocolate_!

"I know where the kitchens are." He murmured, already overwhelmed in anticipation… _chocolate!_ … "To the left from here. By Hufflepuff."

And Severus moved around the table, jostling the body draped next to him a bit. "Oy, mate. Careful now" was the only response, lazily flipped up in a good-natured tone of voice. Like it really didn't matter if Severus was careful or not, just as long as the silver-purple hazy, bubbling cauldron wasn't disturbed -everything was, after all, very relaxed and groovy.


	4. About a Purple Potion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is that potion about, anyway?

_Chocolate is indeed the most wonderful thing in the world,_ Remus suddenly found himself wishing Sirius were with them; Sirius _seriously_ needed more chocolate in his life. Remus leaned his head back, resting against Sev's shoulder. Then again, Sirius _had_ been treating Sev very poorly recently.

"I'm going to say something, Sev." Remus decided out loud.

"Oh?" Sev asked around the chunk of Windsor red cheese he was devouring.

"Yes. The next time Sirius acts like a complete prat, I'm going to tell him off." Remus bravely stuck out his lip in a very attractive pout. "I will. I really will. I don't care if I lose him. He's acting out all the time just because Malfoy graduated. I mean, just because Malfoy left doesn't mean that Black inherits the claim to world's biggest git."

Sev watched Remus rant on his behalf and felt vaguely touched by it, but somehow he felt as though the world was growing less clear and vibrant now, things were moving faster again. "Something tells me, Remy, that this is the sort of plan you make during the moment… but never follow through with." Sev said with measured care and honesty.

"No way." Remus laughed, "I swear I will. I _like_ you, Sev. I really do."

Remus had lifted his head and swallowed the chocolate he had been talking around. His face pushed forward, stubbornly, close to Sev's. His eyes were wide and vividly golden. It was breath taking. To the best of his knowledge, Severus Snape had never had a friend, let alone an equal, let alone someone who treated _him_ as an equal in return.

"Remy…" he said.

"Sev." was the hungry reply.

"Boys." came the unexpected voice from across the kitchen.

Startled, Severus and Remus sprang apart, heads jerking toward the door and the new occupant of the room. To their horror, the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway, his purple robes wrapped in a silvery dressing-gown and a faintly amused look on his face. The House-elves that had been clustered around the boys, loading their hands and plates with munchies, nearly fell over themselves with glee, swarming to the _good master!_ and asking _what master's pleasure would be?_. Dumbledore let the kitchen door shut firmly behind him. Chuckling softly, he settled down across the table from Severus and Remus, who had both turned quite gray. Remus was certain that he was about to make the situation much worse by throwing up all over the recently-arrived Headmaster.

"I'll just share these munchies with the boys, thank you." Dumbledore said graciously to the House-elves and then gently suggested that the kitchen staff ought to get some sleep, and he would clean up when they were finished, and no, they needn't punish themselves, master enjoys cleaning up midnight munchies very much, thank you… Then Dumbledore returned his attention to the boys- or more precisely, to the candies on the table before them.

"Good gracious! What are these?" Dumbledore amiably picked up a candy-striped box.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, sir." Severus said. "The newest flavors just came out, and they are quite… surprising." He added with a deferential tone of caution.

Remus wondered how Severus could manage to say anything at all, at a time like this. Remus was wracked with guilt and dismay. He was sure to be expelled at any moment; and then he'd lose everything and all his friends - and even Sirius, who knew his secret but liked him anyway… In short, Remus was too overwhelmingly horrified to speak. But Severus' face had become an amazing mixture of meekness and neutrality. He was gazing not at Dumbledore's face (where Remus' own eyes were nervously shifting) but instead in the general area of Dumbledore's right shoulder. His voice was careful, and calm - completely empty of the breathless wonderment that had only moments ago whispered _Remy_ as if the world turned on the axis of space that linked the two boys.

Dumbledore's eyes flickered briefly with a sort of sorrowful expression. "Yes." He murmured, almost to himself, "You _are_ quite good at Pacifying with Precision, Severus. Ten points to Slytherin."

And Severus' eyes grew wide, his face even more pale than usual, and his empty look suddenly, sharply, focused into an intense gaze that locked with Dumbledore's gentle expression. Remus was not sure what had just happened, but Dumbledore was giving points, it seemed, rather than taking them away.

"This wasn't Severus' fault, sir." Remus found his voice, "I was the one who knew where the kitchen entrance was. If he hadn't been with me, he'd be back in his dorm by now. So it's my fault really."

"Oh ho. Yes, but he _chose_ to follow you, did he not? And who we are is best demonstrated by the choices we make…" And then Dumbledore's attention returned owlishly to the box in his hands. "But then, it isn't your fault either, not entirely." He said, fishing around and pulling out a vaguely pinkish speckled bean. "Do you suppose this is a bubble-gum?" he mused and popped it in his mouth hopefully. His eyes watered, and he reached blindly for something else to eat. Remus dumbly thrust a piece of chocolate to him.

"Alas! Vomit!" Dumbledore cried out as he inhaled the chocolate. Shuddering, he put the box of jelly beans firmly back down on the table. When the twinkle had returned to his eyes - _ah, sherbet lemon!_ \- he glanced back at the boys with a bemused expression. "No, not entirely your fault either. It appears as though Professor Slughorn has given out his extra credit assignment again. I _do_ wish he would notify me prior to the assignment." Dumbldore sighed heartily, "I so wish that once in a while, I could enjoy the Potion when it is still freshly made, rather than finding it by chance halfway through the night."

Remus felt a small smirk - so he had been correct in believing that Dumbledore was the 'relaxed and groovy' sort. Severus was sitting quite still; Remus realized he was preparing himself to stoically bear out whatever punishment they were about to receive.

"You know about the Potion, sir?" Remus asked instead, still trying to make some sense of the whole evening.

"Ahh, yes." Dumbledore said, still savoring the steady flow of candies. "Yes, and I also know that Professor Slughorn does not inform his students as to the effects of the completed Potion when he sets the extra credit assignment. I believe he finds it rather amusing to see the after-effects Monday morning, to discover who had successfully completed it. It is much more potent, you see, when it is inhaled by someone with an open mind, with no preconceptions. That is also why I refuse to allow anyone to dock points or assign punishments for any mischief that results as a consequence of the assignment."

Remus, aside from the delicious wave of relief, also felt a vague curiosity about why Dumbledore allowed the Potions extra credit assignment at all. Dumbledore had turned and surveyed Severus with a smiling expression.

"Yes. It appears you were _quite_ successful. I shall make a report of it to Horace … but you are not in his 5th year class?" The amused expression had returned.

"No, sir." Severus replied, "I'm a 4th year."

"Yes." Dumbledore replied, "This quite explains it then."

"Sir?" Remus asked.

"None of the 5th years I found in the room with the Potion would have been capable of producing such a … pure and particularly potent batch. I shall have to make sure that Professor Slughorn understands that they were trying to take the credit for  _your_ efforts and exemplary potion-making skills."

Severus, for the first time in his life, was utterly ecstatic.

"And now," Dumbledore continued, "I believe it is time for us all to turn in for the night."

"Sir…" Remus began, "what is that Potion anyway?"

"Oh no," Dumbledore laughed softly, "No, I will not tell you its name. And when you wake tomorrow, neither you nor any of the 5th years will be able to find the Potion's instructions handed out by Professor Slughorn. That's my little addition to his assignment. No… if you want to enjoy the Potion a second time, you will have to seek for it on your own. If it really means that much to you…?"

"Oh, no," Remus replied, already mentally putting the whole… surreal… night behind him, "No, I was only curious."

Severus appeared to echo his sentiments; and surprisingly, they both yawned loudly.

"It feels as though we've been…wandering around… for _ages_." Severus mumbled thoughtfully.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore nodded as he ushered them down a hallway, "one of the effects of the Potion… Time certainly does _not_ fly when you're having fun… But it always wears off, you see - and, alas! - time catches up to you again. It always does. And, here we are Mr. Snape."

Remus blinked with surprise to see that they had somehow already arrived at the Slytherin Common Room entrance. _The Potion must be wearing off, then_ he thought as Dumbledore continued to pad- barefoot! - in front of him. Then they were at the Fat Lady's portrait, and Remus was in his dorm room, and the others were already asleep.

 _I do wish Sirius had been there_ , he decided muzzily as his head fell back on his pillow, _I wish I could have seen his eyes and his hair under the effect of that Potion… I wonder what his skin feels like- really feels like… or his fingers…_

And as sleep overtook him, his thoughts dwindled down to a gentle, teasing murmur - and one last breathless echo whispered, " _Remy…_ "


	5. Us, Not You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School is hard and Teenagers are stupid.

Despite the fresh snow on the ground, they hunkered down on the bank beside the frozen lake. James had run his hand through his hair, mussing it up properly, before pulling out his wand and muttering a warming charm at the ground. The snow melted up a bit, but the ground was still soggy.

 _'m better at transfigurations than charms, anyway_. James had shrugged. Sirius finished the charm.

They were planning what to do with their next trip to Hogsmeade. It was the last Hogsmeade weekend of the term, before they all left for the Yule holidays. Sirius and James wanted to plan mischief, as usual. Peter didn't care as long as James gave him some "important" role in the mischief-making, and that eventually there was yummy food involved. Sirius, for the first time ever, had absolutely no opinions. He had recently become obsessively fascinated by Muggle culture, and compared to a wonder such as glam rock, Hogsmeade just seemed like the same old boring scene.

Remus had other ideas, but wasn't sure he could manage to suggest his idea to his friends. There had been an advert in the Daily Prophet a couple days ago, it was now carefully tucked in the pocket of his robes; where it was burning a hole right into his skin. It was just the sort of thing he had always wanted to do, but because of how many years his…condition… had forced his family to live among Muggles - it just wasn't something he had ever had a chance… What the advert had declared in nice, marquee-block print, was that the Toccata Tregetours would be performing in Hogsmeade as part of their wizarding-world tour. They would be performing, in fact, _the very same weekend_ that the Hogwarts students would be visiting. Remus desperately wanted to get tickets and go see them. But he wasn't sure the others would like the idea; they were all just teenagers, after all.

The Toccata Tregetours were trompe-l'oeilists. In fact, they were the most renowned, best known, most highly skilled wizards currently performing the art of trompe-l'oeil. It was the wizarding equivalent to attending a Muggle symphony, an art museum, and a magic show all rolled into one. Given wizarding sentiments, Remus could hardly hope to simply go spend an evening with polite society; they would be scandalized to share the finer things in life with a creature as base and vulgar as a werewolf. But, that didn't stop the werewolf from wishing desperately for some of those finer things - just a little taste, just once.

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw a dark bundle of robes drift vaguely toward them, settling down with a book on a somewhat-dry rock just within hearing distance. Severus Snape.

 _He likes to be around me._ Remus thought with a wince, remembering briefly that surreal night that he swore not to think about too often, _it must be torture for him to try to hang around, but to stay as far away from Sirius as possible. I should find ways to be around him more often, so that he doesn't always have to come find me…_

And then a thought hit him. "Ahhumm…" His voice was making noise before Remus could stop it; his mind was horrified - _no, no, this is a stupid idea, stop talking! Stop talking, Remus J "Moony" Lupin! Stop any time now! -_ but his mouth kept moving.

"Actually, I was thinking about maybe doing something else that weekend." Remus heard his voice say much to his dismay. James stopped talking mid-sentence, his mouth still open. Sirius blinked at him disbelieving with his soft grey eyes.

"Got something else in mind, Moony?" He asked, more than slightly curious.

"Well, I- you see," Remus fumbled a bit, "I didn't think you blokes would be interested, so I figured I'd go it alone…" _and by alone, I mean, I was just thinking that I should ask Sev to go with me instead of you._

"Nonsense!" James declared. Sirius snorted. "Alone? We don't do anything alone! Do we James?"

"No, mate, we don't." James replied, "Do we Peter?"

"No, we don't." Peter replied with an extra ounce of force behind the statement.

"But…" Remus began weakly, _oops, shite, bugger all._ "Well. It's just that I…"

"What is it then, Moony?" Sirius asked, leaning forward in a very appealing manner.

"The Toccata Tregetours." Remus whispered, embarrassed. There was a brief moment of silence. James' eyebrows shot impossibly high. Sirius' face was curious and disdainful all at once, and Peter was utterly confused.

"The what?" Peter squeaked at the same time that Sirius asked, "What in the world would you want to waste a perfectly good afternoon in Hogsmeade on _trompe-l'oeil_ for anyway?"

"The Toccata Tregetours," James explained to Peter slowly, as if he were a very young child, "are trompe-l'oeil wizards. Trompe-l'oeil is French for…umm… _deceives the eye_ … I think. You basically have to get dressed up in your most stuffy dress robes, and go sit very still in an amphitheater with a bunch of stupid old wizards while these other wizards sit in the middle stage part and spin spells together. It's _cultural entertainment_."

The three boys stared at him. James shrugged, "My Mum and Dad took me with them once when I was younger. Bloody boring time, if you ask me."

"Which is why I didn't think you'd want to..errr… waste your Hogsmeade weekend going to see it with me." Remus interjected. "I've never been to see trompe-l'oeil; and I've heard that the Troccata Tregetours are _the best._ And I really wanted to…" his voice trailed off, and before he could think what he was doing, his eyes flicked over to where Sev was sitting.   
Severus, the book laying forgotten in his lap, was leaning toward them; his face was devoid of expression, but his eyes were alive with hunger and anticipation. When Remus' gaze was drawn to the other boy, in that single second their eyes locked.

And Sirius saw it.

" _Snivellus_!" Sirius barked. "What do you think you're up to? Listening in, were you? Got an opinion on trompe-l'oeil, then?"

Severus, his attention wrenched away from Remus, was already reaching a hand for his wand. He glared icicles at Sirius as he replied silkily, "While some wizards might have all the privilege and access to such demonstrations of high wizarding culture, I'm afraid that the finer nuances of pure art are lost on idiot oafs like you, Black."

Remus blanched, it was a sentiment rather similar to the train of thought that he, himself, had entertained briefly. Not to mention, it was exactly the sort of sentiment that was going to get Severus thoroughly hexed - and it was once again Remus' fault.

 _"The next time Sirius acts like a complete prat, I'm going to tell him off. I will. I really will."_ Remus' voice echoed pointedly in his memory; but he couldn't speak. It was too late for it; Sirius already had his wand out and was raging at Severus. Remus would have to make it up to him later; really, he would. The best he could manage now was an apologetic glance at the Slytherin boy.

"Yes, _Snivellus_ ," Sirius sneered, "I imagine you fantasize about rich dress robes; you just long for a night out on the town with the intellectual snobs. When you're really just _trash_. Always wanting things you can't have. Always wishing you can have things you don't deserve!"

There was something in Sirius' tone of voice that caught Sirius, Remus, and Severus in a frozen moment where they all forgot to breathe or to move. Sirius felt something inside him shake as his meaning sunk in fully; Remus felt something indescribable inside him tear. Severus utterly refused to feel. His grip on his wand tightened, and his mouth was moving - but James got there first. Followed closely by Sirius.

Remus turned his head and looked away, memorizing the blinding white of the sun on the frozen lake. Maybe a little piece of him froze too when he heard Sirius' cold voice saying, "We are going with Remus to the performance, got that? _Us_ , not you. Stop hanging around where you're not wanted."

They left Severus there, waiting alone with his thoughts for the hexes to wear off enough for him to crawl back into the school. Severus shut his eyes as they left, so he didn't know if Remus had snuck a backwards look. He was rapidly realizing that backward looks from Remus were loosing their value.  
  
 _"The next time Sirius acts like a complete prat, I'm going to tell him off. I will. I really will."_ Remus' voice echoed pointedly in his memory. So much for promises made under the influence of purple Potions. Severus would have felt angry, but he was carefully making sure that he felt nothing. Nothing at all. He was an expert at logic, a skilled manipulator of strategy and process. But what in the world, good Merlin, would he do with _emotions_ like… humiliation, despair, or -worst of all- this unbearable longing?

 _"Always wanting things you can't have. Always wishing you can have things you don't deserve!"_ What Severus hated most about Sirius Black, he decided at that moment, was that he was absolutely right, but it was purely accidental. Sirius Black didn't have any idea what he was talking about, not truly. He was just flinging whatever words made sense to him at the moment; and he had disgusting luck. That, indeed, was the story of his life: not earning, working for, or fighting to attain any of the things he had. Money, good looks… while his family life left something to be desired, and was-perhaps- even less enviable than the Snape family… Sirius Black had the one thing that made up for a tumultuous family. Sirius Black had Remus Lupin.

_And he did nothing, does nothing, to deserve that gift either..._


	6. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus Lupin reaches werewolf puberty.

"Oy, Moony, are you okay?" Sirius' voice was hovering somewhere above him.

Remus cracked open an eye, and tried to control the rising pain in his gut. "James and I were thinking about maybe nicking off with his cloak down to the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer…" Sirius explained, "You want to join us?"

"And listen to you tell that bloody awful joke again?" Remus grimaced, but it was only partially due to the memory of that horrible joke that Sirius liked for no apparent reason. "No, mate, I don't think soooooo…" Remus' sentence trailed off as he shivered and curled up into a ball on his side. Someone was moaning, and he vaguely thought perhaps it was him.

Before he could even think, Sirius was curled up around him, pulling him back to cradle protectively in his arms.

"Sirius, where are… hey- what's going on?" Jame's voice said, worry interrupting his sentence. Peter squeaked. Remus could feel them all closing around his bed. There was something coiled up in his belly, it was twisting now, and burning… and building up like the sort of pressure that built up when… Remus suddenly felt his whole body flush with heat.

 _What is happening to me?_ He wondered briefly, frightened by the uncontrollable shaking building up in his limbs. It was almost like a transformation, except that the full moon had been nearly a week ago, on the 6th… and nothing had been usual. But, oh!, he felt like squirming restlessly in Sirius' arms. His skin felt like fire, like sparks of energy every place that Sirius' body was touching his. And the rest were huddled in much too closely, he wanted to lash out them, to mark them with his claws, to howl, to dance, to pull them all into wild abandon…

 _Good Merlin_ -where were all these thoughts coming from? There was a sound like an electrified humming coming from somewhere.

"He's growling, Sirius." James' voice whispered, his face pale and frozen.

"I know that Jamie." Sirius snapped at him, his eyes and judgment clouded by fear and worry. "Something is wrong." He wrapped his arms tighter, as Remus shivered violently. He looked like he might start thrashing about wildly at any moment. "He's sick. Something isn't right… with the wolf." Sirius' voice was like cold steel. He felt certainty grip him, paralyze him.

His eyes shifted away from Moony's buried face, and locked with James.

"Peter…" James' voice was quiet, deadly, "Go get Madam Pomfrey."

"But…" Peter squeaked.

"GO!" James and Sirius nearly roared together. Peter spun wildly and fled from the room. Sirius was already feeling his muscles complaining; Remus was a lot stronger than he looked, and holding him still was taking a lot of energy. James was putting the invisibility cloak down in a pile on his bed, and getting his wand; he was carefully moving to Sirius' bed to get the other boy's wand.

"No questions, mate. If it gets…dangerous… we both stun right away. It won't kill him, but our combined spells might be enough to knock out even…"

_Even a werewolf._

Sirius nodded grimly. They had no idea what was going on - better stun first, ask questions later. They'd use the stunning charm Pomfrey had used on the Willow in their 2nd year (They'd looked it up and learned it since then, of course).

Sirius was sweating, murmuring _it's okay, it's okay,_ and holding tightly to Remus whose body was writhing as the boy moaned and growled. Under different circumstances, that would have been enough to make Sirius unbelievably aroused - but arousal is a hard thing to feel while holding on for dear life to a growling werewolf… no pun intended.

"James…" Sirius panted, growing pale.

James raised his wand grimly, his other hand ready to pass Sirius his wand. And then Pomfrey burst into the room, panting. Her face was white and she was nearly shrieking, "You both -out! Now! No idea… so dangerous… you don't realize…did he touch you at all? I can't believe you just… stayed in here… when he could have… what if…"

And she whipped out her wand and promptly stunned Remus. His body slumped in Sirius' arms, suddenly heavy and damp from their sweat.

"Hospital Wing! Now! No talking!" Pomfrey barked, leaning against the doorframe and pressing her hand to her chest. Sirius struggled briefly to get out from under the limp body of his friend. Remus' face was flushed, and even unconscious his body was still shivering and curling up.

Dumbledore was waiting in the Hospital Wing when they arrived. His expression was unreadable, but vaguely knowing -as if resigned to a moment that he had been expecting. He silently helped Madam Pomfrey put Remus on a bed, his usual bed closest to the window at the end of the wing.

Madam Pomfrey insisted on carefully inspecting them all, even Peter, for any scratches or marks or bites.

"But," Sirius protested impatient that she focus her attention on Moony, "it's not the full moon. His bite isn't dangerous unless he's the wolf." Beside him, James inhaled sharply, and Peter stared at his shoes.

Madam Pomfrey grew pale. Her hands dropped Sirius' arms, and her eyes darted quickly over to Dumbledore.

"So you already know." Dumbledore's eyebrows lifted higher, but his voice sounded smug. "I knew you would know sooner than expected. Madam Pomfrey always worried about that; about his safety if someone found out and was… not agreeable."

Much to Sirius' relief, Madam Pomfrey shot Dumbledore an irritated look, but bustled over to Remus and began to tend to him. "Is he dying, sir?" James asked.

Dumbledore broke into a large smile. "No. No, in a way, you might say he is only now beginning to live."

"Is that what it's like to live as a werewolf then?" Sirius blurted out angrily. Protectively.

Dumbledore raised an apologetic hand. "Unfortunately, it is not my place to explain all the details. Let me assure you though, that this will pass. It is a sort of yearly…illness… that affects werewolves in February, around the 15th of the month, and then it fades. I had hoped that it would not begin to trouble him so badly for another year, but-as the full moon occurred before the 15th this year- he was in a position for the _condition_ to be noticeably pronounced this year."

"What _condition_?" Sirius demanded.

"That, Sirius Black, I will explain in detail to Mr. Lupin, and he will decide what to share with you." was Dumbledore's firm, but gentle response.

"He'll tell us everything, you know." James said carelessly. Dumbledore regarded him casually over the rim of his spectacles.

"Perhaps." He simply said. "This _condition_ is part of the magic that creates a werewolf; not many understand it or where it comes from. Yet it has always been part of Remus Lupin's life, even though he has not known it until now. This first… realization… will be the most dramatic, I believe. It will not be so painful or uncontrollable in the future. Does that lay to rest your concerns for your friend?" Dumbledore asked softly. Then firmly reasserted, "And that is all that I can really explain to you at this time."

 

* * *

 

Remus Lupin woke up feeling as though _only_ a half-ton of bricks had dropped on him. Madam Pomfrey was bending over him, rubbing something cool onto his skin. It felt nice… soothing. Remus wondered briefly if he had a fever, if that was why his whole body ached and his skin felt so…flushed. Then his belly gave a twist, and his whole body seemed to scream. Then he heard a voice, a stunning spell. He didn't have a chance to even wonder who was being stunned.


	7. Another Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus, Sirius, and Severus

"Mmmph." Remus rolled over. "My whole body hurts."

"Moony?" the voice was cautious, hopeful. "How do you feel?"

Sirius.

Remus cracked open an eye. Sirius' worried face filled his whole field of vision. "I'd feel a lot better if you'd get your ugly schnaz outta my face, mate." He replied.

Sirius broke into an open, relieved grin.

"I was…we were… I was… so worried." He exhaled.

"Sirius, you look like shite." Remus said, carefully easing himself back to sit up more, leaning against the pillow. "How long have you been here?… How long have I been here?"

"About… four days." Sirius replied, looking down at his shoes. "But Dumbledore wouldn't let me skip classes to stay with you. And I had to sneak in with James' cloak to be with you at night."

Remus had gone very pale as Sirius babbled on… _four days? Was he actually sick?_ The though was foreign: being a werewolf strengthened his immunity to most common illnesses. Aside from being a _werewolf_ , Remus was hardly ever ill otherwise.

"Four days? What was wrong?" Remus asked.

"Dumbledore wouldn't really say. Said he'd talk more to you about it, privately." Sirius made a noise that let Remus know just what he thought about _that_. "Just said that it's a thing that happens to werewolves every February 15th."

Remus blanched; he would go through this every year? Seeing his response, Sirius was quickly beside him on the bed, wrapping warm strong arms around him, pulling him close. Remus let his eyes drop shut, inhaling the comforting scent of Sirius Black wrapped around him. His whole body was still sore and tender, but Sirius' touch was gentle, protective. It felt heavenly. Better than chocolate.

"Don't worry- " Sirius' voice was soothing, "he said that you'd always been like this every February before, but just hadn't had an…episode…yet. He said that the first time you do, it's the hardest; so the worst is over. You'll be fine now. I'll always…"

But Sirius never finished his litany of comforting thoughts because there was a sudden crash. Their eyes flew open, their bodies frozen, wrapped in their cuddled embrace.

Severus Snape had knocked over a bedside table in his haste to flee from the room.

"Sirius, no! Let him go!" Remus called, but Sirius had already sprung from the bed - his body livid and his grey eyes flashing.

"That bloody, spying, slimy git!" He fumed as he tore red-faced out of the Hospital Wing. "Don't worry Moony- I'll find out how much he overheard."

It had not even occurred to Remus to worry that Severus had overheard Sirius say "werewolf"…But now that Sirius brought it up, his stomach filled with an icy cold dread. He felt too horrid to be able to chase after them. So he just wrapped his arms miserably around his knees, and watched as he lost his best friend to the misdirected anxieties of… _the love of your life_ … a voice whispered hopelessly.

 

* * *

 

Sirius caught up with Severus at the end of the hall, just before the main stairs.

"Oy! You great greasy git! Get back here!" Sirius bellowed recklessly. His wand was already in hand, a thousand hexes running through his head. His free hand reached out and grabbed Severus by the robes, dragging the other boy back and slamming him against the nearest wall.

"Temper, temper, Black." Severus sneered coldly.

"What were you up to, then?" Sirius fumed, "How much did you hear?"

Severus stared at Sirius then, openly and plainly for the first time since they had met. His dark eyes held an odd sort of knowing look, but none of the arrogant smirk they usually held when Severus knew something others didn't. They seemed more… resigned, and regretful… which just infuriated Sirius even more. The moment passed, and Severus' controlled emotionless mask dropped over his face once again.

"You are not the only person in the world who would want to visit a sick friend, Black." Severus spat coldly.

Sirius' face twisted with cold fury, followed quickly by a disdainful sneer.

"He isn't _your_ anything, _Snivellus_." His voice hissed, seething.

 

And once again, Severus was left in a pathetic heap to wait for the hex to wear off - or for some student to find him and perform a counter-spell. Either way, it was excruciating humiliation. Severus angrily berated himself: how could he have survived so many years Pacifying with Precision that great brute of a father, but somehow Sirius Black always manages to beat him down? _Sirius Black…_

_Sirius Black has cost me everything. Black… cost me the respect of my peers. Takes every chance to humiliate me he can find. Waltzes through these halls like he owns the place, without having to work for it like the rest of us… and now…_

_Now Black has taken Remus from me too._


End file.
